Broken Crayons Still Color

I am thankful. I am grateful. And I AM blessed. I am all of these things all of the time, no matter how tired or anxious or defeated I may be feeling. It isn't always easy to acknowledge these things, but they have never left. The past month or so I have been emotionally beating myself up over things that just don't seem to be clicking with Theo, in particular his eating and sleeping habits. Theo is a little squired, he was 6.14 at birth and went down to 6.2 within the first couple of weeks. It feels like he has been playing catch up ever since. He is nearing the nine month mark in age and isn't even on the growth chart curve for his age.( I take that back, the kid's head circumference seems to be okay!) He weighs in around 15 pounds, soaking wet diaper and fully clothed. He still comfortably wears 0-3 month pants and onesies. I probably wouldn't pay any attention to any of this if I didn't have someone comment "he's a fresh one" every.where.we.g

I sound like a broken record. To myself and most likely to everyone else I communicate with. It's as if I am stuck in this season of life with an infant. I constantly beat myself up mentally for not being strong enough to be a good mom. I tell myself that I wanted to be a mom so I need to suck it up and move on with the hard days, the sleepless nights, the endless dishes and laundry and stop complaining about it. But the thing is, I don't HATE those things. I absolutely love being a mom and I would not change being Theo's mommy for the entire world. But ya'll, I am exhausted. I crave some sort of consistency and routine in my day to day responsibilities, and throwing in an unpredictable 7.5 month old (who is now mobile!) has been a tricky adjustment. I never know much and how well Theo is going to sleep at night. I never know where he's going to sleep at night. I don't know how clingy he's going to be and how much of my time I have to spend holding and rock

I started this post a few weeks ago, and just couldn't figure out where to go with it. In the time between when I started it and now I have been extremely mindful of this and my wording around how I am feeling. And I can tell you that I feel exactly how I was hoping I would. It's almost a feeling of freedom. It's really amazing what a shift in thought patterns can do. It's not to say that I am not experiencing the crippling anxiety and all that goes along with that; but I feel much more confident in my ability to fight. Something that I say all of the time when referring to how anxious I am or what I'm feeling is "my anxiety is super high." I never realized I was even saying that but I've definitely been more mindful of it as of late. I noticed that when I own the anxiety as if it is part of me, it makes me feel less empowered. Less empowered to fight through it, accept the feelings that come with anxiety, and much less motivation to be so resilie

If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that I am "so calm" I think I could retire early. The truth is. I am anything BUT calm. What people perceive as calmness (in me) is really just me internalizing nearly crippling anxiety OR simply shutting out feelings. See, I feel like a broken record. Like nobody wants to listen to me because I complain about the same things over and over. I'm tired. I'm stressed. I'm exhausted. Blah blah blah. Part of that is me subconsciously seeking out validation for how I feel. I have this terrible habit of telling myself that the way I feel is wrong and I should be stronger and braver and MORE. More ambitious, more productive, more organized, accomplished, optimistic smarter, happier. Nobody tells me any of those things. I know its my brain lying to me, and I should tell it to shut up, but it's not always that easy. I'm worn out. And I'm doing it to myself. I second guess myself all of the time. I have gone do

I'm tired, exhausted really, to my very core. Every emotion that I feel is real and it's raw and it's hard to process. By the time I am able to process what may have triggered or caused me to feel that way, I am on to the next emotion. I’m tired of trying to do it all, knowing I can’t do it all, but being unable to stop trying to do it all. This has been a struggle for me since the day Theo entered this world. The media (social and otherwise) is so good at plastering all of these "amazing mom" articles and pictures everywhere, making it LOOK easy. It's not easy, and those people they are talking about are rich and have paid people helping them .   I’m tired of not knowing what I need when someone says  “How can I help?” OR maybe more accurately, being too stubborn to allow them to help.   I’m tired of knowing I am on a never-ending quest for perfectionism and appreciation and self-worth and value. And guess whose idea of perfection I am str

I've been having a really hard time figuring out how to balance everything I am responsible for since going back to work in June. I knew it was going to be an adjustment but what I didn't expect was the complete lack of desire to put any amount of energy into anything other than being a mom. This does not mean I wish I could be a full time stay at home mom, by any means. I think it's more of missing the time with Theo and wanting to make up for that at the end of the day when I get home, thus putting off every other responsibility I have. I don't know that this is necessarily a bad thing, but I know it could lead to some unhealthy habits; especially with my stellar ability to neglect self care and being real good at isolating. For some stupid reason I feel like I need to defend myself and that I am choosing to make Theo my number one priority because I believe that is my duty as his mom. I can't seem to make sense of what is in my head when I try to explain it, so

Fed is best. At least, that's what you hear people say even if they don't really mean it and are just trying to be nice. The pressure on women to breastfeed is so overwhelming. It doesn't matter what frame of mind you go into the journey thinking, you will still feel all of the pressure and judgment you told yourself you wouldn't let bother you. I guess I don't know why it's anyone's business to know how you plan to feed your child, but it's one of the most asked questions when you are pregnant. I'm currently in a secluded office at work, pumping so I can do what needs to be done for my boy. Every time I plug in my pump and get myself hooked up my anxiety sky rockets. I could be having the calmest moment in the history of my calm moments, and the minute this machine starts doing it's work I am panicky, sweaty, racing heart, etc. I started pumping and freezing my supply back in April so when Theo started daycare he could have breast milk during

After struggling several weeks with postpartum baby blues and fighting really hard to not let them get out of control, I read a lot of articles and blogs about how it gets easier. When I reached out to the few people I know who have small children, or have recently had a baby, they told me the same thing. Our pediatrician, and my OBGYN doctor said it too. It. Gets. Easier. And ya know what?! They were ALL right!!! I am not out of the woods by any means, but when comparing the second five weeks with the first six or seven they have definitely gotten easier. I didn't know how hard it was going to be but it was a relief to know that it's normal and it's common to have all of the thoughts and feelings that I had upon bringing home our first baby. I would imagine those thoughts and feelings still show up after every newborn, but knowing what it's like has got to make the transition a bit more manageable. My first response (to myself) when I kept hearing that it gets easier

I am exhausted. I have used that word loosely in the past, and have no doubt been exhausted before but I have never known it like this before. This is sleep deprivation, emotional drain, physical tiredness, constantly doing or thinking, skipped meals, and scheduling my every need around my sweet boys needs. I absolutely know that this is what I signed up for by becoming a mom, and that I am not the only mom who has or does feel this way, but I need to talk about it. I have always been someone who needs a full night of sleep (read 7-9 hours) to function well the next day. I don't think I've gotten a full night of restful sleep since I was seven months pregnant. Sleeping became so difficult towards the end of my pregnancy and obviously is hard to come by with an infant. There are times I'm up with Theo at two or three in the morning feeding him, or pacing back and forth until I'm certain that he is asleep before laying back down, and I literally feel myself start to fal

When you have a major life event happen people are quick to line up and give you their advice. They don't care what the situation is, what the backstory or history may be, or if you even want to listen to them. I remember it well when we got married and it definitely happened when I got pregnant. Between the unsolicited advice, the repetitive questions and the reading that I did, I was done hearing or taking in any information by my third trimester. I heard it all for eight months and was just as overwhelmed, if not more so, than month three or four. Are you going to breast feed? Are you doing a natural birth? What if you have to have a C-Section? Do you want to be induced? Will you stay home or take him to daycare? What about your dog, you're not going to get rid of him are you? Will you have him vaccinated? You  need to get out of the house! You need to exercise and be social! And then came all of the unsolicited advice and know it all knowledge. Breastfeeding is

Wow. My pregnancy journey ended four weeks ago already. Theo Conner just didn't want to hang on until his due date so he joined the world on 3.15.18 at 1:13pm. And boy have the last four weeks been a whirlwind. Here is the story of Theo! On Wednesday March 14 Matthew and I went to work like any other ol' day. Around 3pm I called Matthew and told him I had reached my max for the day and was going to head home early. Matthew said he had a terrible headache and was also going to head home early. Wrigley needed his heartworm pill so I contemplated stopping on the way home, in the end I did stop. When I got home I took a short nap and when I woke up I had a rush of energy and was restless. I asked Matthew if he wanted to get out of here so we went to Jason's Deli for dinner. I was in a cheerful mood and joked and giggled the entire time we were out. On the way home my mom called me and when I answered I said "no mom, there is no baby yet!" She laughed and told me tha

The older and wiser I get the more I start to loath the end of the year. It seems like once Thanksgiving ends and December rolls around everyone starts complaining about the year that is winding down and claiming to be so excited about "the shittiest year ever" ending. At one point in my life, probably not long ago, I was on that bandwagon. Every year I was thinking about how I just couldn't wait to end the worst year of my life and start a new year with a clean slate. I'm not like that anymore. I actually am incredibly irritated by all of the social media posts from people leading up to the new year about how bad the last 12 months were and they just don't see how next year could be any worse. I have personally made a very conscience effort to quite focusing on the bad shit that happened during the year, because let's face it, bad things are always going to happen whether we like it or not. I don't think Matthew and I have a caught a break in months, it&#